help me
by antigonebelladonna
Summary: With his larger than life attitude, it's easy to forget that Yuri Plisetsky is only fifteen years old, so when he refuses to ask for help, how is anyone supposed to know when he actually needs it? In comes Katsuki Yuuri, who's surprisingly perceptive when it comes to his young friend. (This story is not mine. Read notes for details)
1. Chapter 1

(PLEASE LOOK AT THE NOTE BEFORE YOU START READING)

A/N:  
Hi!  
This is kind of a weird fic. I basically copied and pasted someone else's fanfic and then heavily edited and changed it a loooot to meet my preferences. Like a looooot. I made it about 15x longer.

Keep in mind that parts of this story are still the original author's writing (like the summary), although I'm pretty sure I changed every sentence of this fic.

Basically, I liked the original story so much I wanted to keep writing it :D  
The original one is really, really good, of course. Go check it out. All credit for the story idea and stuff goes to them.

Link to the original story: /works/8663095 (The story is called If you need help you can always ask)

Link to the original author: /users/PushPin/pseuds/PushPin (The author's name is PushPin)

As for the warnings, there is attempted non-con in this. No sexual acts actually occur, but if you're sensitive to really creepy, suggestive scenes, maybe give this one a pass. There is a little bit of language because Yuri is the narrator and...well, you know what you sign up for when you read a fic from his perspective. I did try to keep the language minimal, though, I promise :)

I hope this kind of story is okay. I've never seen anyone do this kind of thing before, and I'm really sorry if I break a thousand rules while doing this and offend everyone. I just really liked this story and wanted to expand on it!

Enjoy!

x

* * *

 _Chapter 1  
_  
With all the excitement, anxiety, and anticipation of skate competitions, it was easy to forget just how much downtime there was during the actual event. To Yuri Plisetsky, the endless rituals he had to perform before his actual program seemed unnecessary, not to mention annoying as hell. The day of the event started with grueling early mornings, excessive warmups, costumes, and socializing with other skaters, all before he even got on the ice. Even after he finally performed, he still had to wait around after to indulge interviewers and listen to a lengthy critique of his performance.

Being fifteen gave him fewer options for escape, and he was usually at the mercy of his coach. At the behest of Yakov, he also had to indulge the whims of his current sponsors, which usually involved much more press time than was necessary. It was all an infuriating game to play just so he could skate.

Yuri had heard that his old friend (nemesis?) Katsuki Yuuri was skating at the event as well, but in a completely different bracket, so they hadn't crossed paths yet. Victor and Yuuri were probably inseparable, as per usual. Ugh. Idiots. Just being around them made Yuri want to murder someone every single time.

A loud voice suddenly interrupted Yuri's irritated musings. "Yuri, my boy! Your set was very impressive today! Glad to see all the time training is worth it!"

Yuri stopped his meandering and turned to the voice with mild confusion. The underground hallways were always empty during a competition. It took him a second to recognize the man calling him, but the American accent clued him in. He couldn't remember his name, but this man was definitely one of his bigger sponsors. They had met a few times during practice when he'd been forced to play nice for the man with the fat wallet.

Yuri groaned inwardly. He did not feel like having forced conversation with this guy.

"Where's your coach? I thought he'd be with you," the man said, glancing around the dark hallway as though he would find Yakov magically materializing near them.

"He's not my keeper," Yuri grumbled, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. "Probably still talking to reporters." He looked at him with narrow eyes as the man walked closer. He was intimidatingly taller than Yuri; probably around nine inches.

"Why not come up to my box and watch the rest of the competition with me? He'll be sure to find you there," the man suggested, putting a hand on Yuri's back and leading him towards the stairwell. "Maybe we can chat a bit about your funding. After your perfect performance tonight, I'd say you're up for a bit more pampering."

As the man pushed him forward, Yuri cursed under his breath in rapid Russian, then switched to English with a slightly more polite tone. "Sure, whatever." Shrugging off the hand, Yuri grudgingly followed him up and through the stadium, watching as the walls grew cleaner and more well kept the higher they went. When they reached the suite level, there were a few skaters and rich looking fans milling around, likely wandering from one party in one box to another.

He wasn't above admitting that the lure of more funding was always tempting. Life wasn't easy for his family, but money always helped. Most of his checks got sent home to his family, but he knew they weren't always enough, and in offseason without any prize money coming in, money was tight with his family and he had to rely on sponsors for funding, which often meant humoring idiots like this.

The man led Yuri into a dimly lit, empty box. The loud thumping of a bass-heavy EDM song could be heard through the wall, presumably from a party in the next room over, but it was quiet enough in the booth.

Yuri sat on a couch in front of the glass in the front row, leaning his arm against the arm of the chair. Someone he didn't recognize was currently skating, and he absentmindedly critiqued their poor form in his head while wondering if Yuuri had already gone. The man came and sat next to him on the soft sofa, putting an arm up on the back near Yuri's head, not quite close enough to be touching. Yuri watched him out of the corner of his eye while he shuffled away an inch, and pulled out his phone from his hoodie pocket. Did this guy have no sense of personal space?

"Listen, I was hoping we could talk a bit about your funding," the man started. His attention wasn't on the ice skating. It was laser-focused on Yuri. It made his skin crawl, but he stayed in place."You did such a good job tonight, just beautiful on the ice."

His voice was too close to Yuri's ear. He kept his eyes glued to his phone. Victor had posted a selfie on Instagram of him squeezing Yuuri against his side with the caption 'celebrating in suite 19 3'. Damn. He had missed Yuuri's performance already.

"I think we could work something out for some extra funding during the offseason if you could do something for me."

Yuri blanched when he felt fingers tugging on his hair tie, letting his hair down. He stared at a spot in front of his phone, his finger frozen mid-scroll. His hair fell over his face, but Yuri didn't look up or move, feeling cold that had nothing to do with the ice rink.

"You're so beautiful, Yuri. I couldn't believe it when I heard you were only fifteen…"

The fingers were combing through his hair now. Yuri felt a warm hand on his thigh, and his gut dropped as his body jerked under the unwelcome touch. He wondered briefly why his usual reaction of anger had abandoned him in this moment. He didn't know what to feel or what to do, and he was just staying frozen in place. Why the hell wasn't he moving?

"Give me your hand."

He felt a clammy hand close over his thin wrist and all at once felt small and young and very, very alone, a feeling he didn't have often and didn't welcome.

The fingers around his wrist were firm and when he tried to pull his arm away, the man squeezed his wrist harder and pressed it into the couch. He was surprisingly strong.

"Work with me here and I'll give you anything you want, any money you need to skate for the rest of your career. And you'll—you'll want this, I promise. You'll like it. Just—just—"

The man leaned into Yuri's face, and Yuri tried to pull back quickly, but his head slammed on the top of the sofa. He grit his teeth in pain. The man, apparently having given up trying to justify what he was doing, climbed on top of him and pinned him to the couch. His hand moved higher up his thigh. Yuri squeezed his eyes shut, his heart thumping wildly. He pinned Yuri's wrist next to his face on the couch. His other hand was on Yuri's hip now, and Yuri jerked as it moved up. That touch felt so wrong, sent shivers down every part of his body…

The man was leaning closer into Yuri's neck when suddenly the door behind them swung open and the room was flooded with light. The man threw himself away from Yuri immediately and cursed, scrambling away to the opposite end of the couch as quickly as he could. Yuri dragged himself away from him, pushing on the couch with trembling hands, He stared at the man, breathing heavily, his entire body shaking with each heavy breath he took.

"Oh, sorry! I'm in the wrong—" It was Katsuki Yuuri, so polite with his freshly washed hair and red face, walking into the wrong booth. He stopped short when his eyes locked with Yuri's terror-stricken ones. This was the most vulnerable or scared he had ever seen Yuri. Yuuri's brows furrowed in confusion as the silence dragged on awkwardly.

"This is a private booth, get out!" the man next to Yuri bellowed, red in the face, not making eye contact with either Yuri.

"Uh, sorry," Yuuri put his hands up in an apologetic gesture with a forced smile. He looked at the man, then back to Yuri, taking in the situation. "I…I think Yakov is looking for you, Yurio."

Before anything else could be said, Yuri vaulted over the back of the sofa and pushed past Yuuri through the door and into the hall. He bent down, his hands on his knees, staring at the floor. He felt like he could finally breathe out in the bright hallway. He only paused for a moment before taking off again, sprinting down the hallway.

"Yurio!" Yuuri slammed the door shut and ran after him. "Wait up!"

"I'm going to find Yakov," Yuri called back firmly, slamming the door to the stairwell open with more force than necessary. Yuuri managed to catch up with him, and he stopped behind Yuri as he started to walk down the stairs.

"Yurio, wait!" Yuuri called to him. Yuri paused in the doorway and turned around to face him, his eyes furious.

"Yakov—he isn't looking for you. I made that up," Yuri stared at him. "You just looked like you needed a reason to get out of there."

Yuri felt his face heat up, his grip on the doorway tightening. There was that anger he had so desperately needed only a minute ago.

"Yurio, what was happening in there?" Yuuri asked quietly.

Yuri stared at the ground.

"You don't have to be scared. I just want to help."

Yuri's head snapped up. "I'm—I'm not scared, you freak. I don't need your help," He promptly turned around, sprinted down the stairwell, and jumped down the remaining steps in just a few seconds. Yuuri followed at a slower pace, extremely concerned.

He caught up just as Yuri put his hand on the door and hesitated. "If you tell anyone about this, Katsudon. I'll make you regret it."

He violently pulled the door open and practically ran out, leaving Yuuri alone in the stairwell.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

It had been about a week and a half since the last competition and Yuri was deeply embroiled in practice. He had done his best to forget about those five minutes alone with his sponsor at the last competition, but this was made far more difficult by the fact that his sponsor had insisted on staying in Russia to watch his progress. That meant that every once in a while Yuri was practicing, he would see the man standing by Yakov, just watching. After being around him so much, Yuri had heard Yakov call him Jim Cassidy.

Cassidy.

Ugh. Somehow knowing his name just made the situation even worse.

If the unwanted presence had affected Yuri's practice, maybe Yakov would have asked him his thoughts on the matter, but he was skating as well as ever, so nothing seemed wrong. Still, Yuri did his best not to be caught alone at any given time. He hardly ever left Yakov's side, and he tried to go to the restroom and walk alone in the hallways as little as possible, walking everywhere as quickly he could without drawing unwanted attention. He ignored Cassidy every time he saw him although the man tried to speak to him several times.

He hated this. He hated that this freak scared him enough to change his daily routine. It made Yuri feel like a coward. Cassidy shouldn't matter that much. He shouldn't get to have any impact on Yuri's life. It infuriated him.

Today, Yuri was practicing his program. Though he already knew it well, he was trying to fit in an extra jump to boost his score in the second half. Yakov disapproved, of course, but his landing from the jump was perfect. He turned to Yakov to gloat only to see a familiar face leaning against the partition: Yuuri Katsuki. Yuuri smiled and waved.

"What do you think you're doing here, Katsudon?" Yuri growled as he stopped his routine and skated to the side.

"Victor had some business to take care of here this week, so he told me I should come along for the trip," Yuuri explained, glancing up nervously at Yakov, who was exuding stern indifference. "I thought I might come by and practice some while he's busy."

"Whatever, do what you want," Yuri sniffed and turned quickly, skating back out on the ice. "Just don't get in my way."

He would never admit it, but some part of him felt nostalgic sharing the ice with Yuuri again. The time he had spent in Hasetsu had been wonderful, and his memories of staying at Yuuri's family inn and eating the food his parents cooked were some of his favorites. That daily routine of meeting at the small town rink and working hard together under Victor's instruction had stuck in his memory. He would never admit this to Yuuri, of course.

He focused on his performance, doing his best to ignore Yuuri on the other half of the rink. It was easy to lose track of time on the ice, focusing so much on what he was doing, everything faded away. As he was attempting a particularly grueling triple salchow, he suddenly realized his body was exhausted, and he botched the landing.

The ice was rough and hard, his bare palms scraping along it before he came to a stop with a small grunt. He rolled over and looked up only to find that that Yuuri was slowly skating towards him, looking a little concerned.

He pushed himself back to his feet before Yuuri could reach him, brushing the quickly melting ice chips from his stinging body.

"Are you alright?" Yuuri asked, stopping a few feet away. His gaze suddenly faltered and brows furrowed as he looked further away.

Yuri followed his gaze, finding his least favorite sponsor standing next to Yakov.  
Their eyes locked together for a moment and Cassidy smiled at him. Yuri felt a small shudder through his body.

"Fine," Yuri answered after a long pause, tearing his eyes away and inspecting his palm. No blood, but the skin was torn up on the surface.

"That's enough for today," Yakov called gruffly, and Yuri obediently headed for the exit without looking back, leaving Yuuri alone on the ice.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

Yuri was tired.

He had been practicing harder than was strictly necessary for the last few days, but of course Yakov was just glad to see him applying himself more than usual. He hadn't seen Victor or Yuuri in a few days, but based on Victor's Instagram feed, they were keeping busy seeing local sights.

It was dark out already, but Yuri stayed on the ice anyway. Even Yakov looked tired and ready to leave, but he stayed and watched in silence. The older coach had told Yuri for years that there was always something more he could be practicing. Yuri usually scoffed when he said this, but tonight he was actually putting this into practice.

After a near miss on a bad landing, Yuri stopped to catch his breath and looked over to Yakov, but he wasn't there.

Cassidy was sitting with his hands folded over his lap, watching. A quick sweep of the rest of the room showed that no one else was there; they were alone. Yuri's stomach dropped.

"It's good to see you practicing so hard, Yuri!" The man stood and called. "Yakov stepped out but he told me to watch you while he was gone."

"Did he say when he'd be back?" Yuri was suddenly felt out of breath again. "Give me my phone."

"He didn't say, but he's been gone for a while already," the man said nonchalantly. "He probably went home. He looked tired."

Cassidy took Yuri's phone off the bench and they met at the edge of the rink. Yuri reached for his phone but it was pulled out of reach just before he could touch it. Cassidy put a hand on Yuri's shoulder and he put the phone in his hand carefully. Yuri pulled back violently, skating backward and away from him with a look of disgust.

"I wanted to offer you the chance to come visit America. I own a skating rink there. You could come visit anytime you want."

Yuri hardly heard him, and he kept idly skating while staring down at his phone, staying at the opposite end of the rink from where Cassidy was standing.

"You could stay there as long as you wanted. I would pay for all of it."

Yuri opened Instagram, a reflexive habit. The first picture that loaded was one of Yuuri. He was leaning too far back to take the selfie while his glasses slipped down off his nose. You couldn't even see much of whatever Russian monument he was trying to get in the background. Yuri scoffed at his lacking selfie taking skills.

"Why don't you come off the ice and cool down a bit?" Cassidy called over to him.

Yuri's stomach turned again, and he stared down at the picture for a moment before tapping on Yuuri's profile and opening a private message. It was empty; he'd never messaged Yuuri privately before. He hardly texted anyone. He made a point of it.

 **yuri-plisetsky** : can u come pick me up at the ice rink?

He clicked send before he had any more time to think about what he was doing.

"I have a few more things I need to work on before I can stop," Yuri called over, skating to the edge of the rink and balancing his phone there. He was just hoping that the man would stay over there and _away_ from him. If he touched Yuri again…

Yuri suppressed a sigh. He was bone tired, and his feet were stinging from his skates, but he just had to hold off until someone else showed up. He guessed if it came down to it, he could use his skates as a weapon, but he wasn't confident that he wouldn't just freeze up like last time. When the man had been on him, he hadn't been able to move a muscle.

For the millionth time, he wished he was older. If he could just _drive_ , none of this would be a problem. He could leave whenever he wanted to and never have to deal with Cassidy unless he absolutely had to.

But he couldn't.

So he skated.

The rink was silent and dark, too similar to the room they'd been in last time. It felt like he'd been waiting forever. He knew he had checked the clock when he messaged Yuuri, but he couldn't for the life of him remember what time it had said. There were no windows, and even if there were, it was already dark out. No way to tell the passage of time.

"Yurio!"

Yuri stopped suddenly, and his knees ached deeply. Yuuri was standing at the edge of the rink, just next to the entrance, smiling. He didn't look upset at all.

"Did you see Yakov on the way in?" Yuri shouted loudly, skating to the edge of the rink and picking up his phone.

"Er, no?" Yuuri looked around, his dark eyes landing on the only other person in the place. His brows slowly went up as he realized who he was.

His sponsor's face was visibly red even from a distance. He clearly remembered Yuuri as well.

"Let's go then," Yuri said, skating quickly to the exit in front of Yuuri and Cassidy. He stepped off the ice, kicked off his skates quickly and picked them up, sprinting out the door with only his socks on. His feet stung like crazy, but he only sprinted faster.

Yuri made it to the locker room quickly, and he kicked open the door, rushing to his duffle bag. He dropped his skates in it quickly, then grabbed it in one hand. Suddenly, the door opened and Yuri whirled around.

Yuuri stood unassumingly in the doorway, looking at Yuri with confusion.

"You startled me, Katsudon," He growled at him.

"Is everything okay?" Yuuri asked gently.

"Fine," Yuri spat. He rushed over to the door and Yuuri stepped out of the way as Yuri locked the door shut. He then limped over to a bench and threw his bag on the ground, taking a deep breath.

Yuuri didn't say anything, just stood next to the door and watched.

"You wanted me to come, right?" he asked.

"Yeah." Yuri paused. "I…thank you," He sighed, dragging his bag over to the bench and sitting. He winced. Somehow sitting made his legs hurt even worse.

"Who is that guy out there?"

"Nobody. Stop asking me so many stupid questions," Yuri grumbled, peeling off his socks to survey the damage. He would've had blisters, had they not already broken and started bleeding. "Shit," He muttered under his breath. He hadn't been expecting them to be this bad.

Yuuri looked at him with concern. "Where's the first aid box?"

Yuri looked at Yuuri and glared. He pointed to the correct cabinet and Yuuri went to fetch the box. Without asking, Yuuri knelt on the ground in front of him with the first aid box on the floor and patted his thigh in invitation.

"No. No way," Yuri said, crossing his arms and not moving.

"You need medical attention," Yuuri replied firmly. He picked up Yuri's bare foot, placing it on his thigh.

Yuri fumed and complained, but let it happen anyway. The only thing he wanted less than Yuuri tending to his feet was having to bend down and do it himself. It didn't take too long until his feet and ankles were tightly wrapped, and he managed to quickly cram his feet into his socks and Nikes.

"Let's get out of here," Yuuri said as Yuri put on his hoodie, glancing at the locked door.

When they left, there were no signs anyone else was left in the building. They turned off the lights on their way out and the door to the building locked behind them. Yuri and Yuuri walked back in the cold rain in slightly uncomfortable silence, Yuri limping determinedly. When they reached the street, Yuri hailed a taxi quickly before Yuuri could ask any more questions.

The older man looked a little disappointed as Yuri climbed into the taxi, and he watched as Yuuri waved him off.

Yuri instructed the taxi driver to drive him to the hotel, and he sighed deeply, trying to relax. He had been on edge for the past two hours. Being alone was a relief.

But at least it was over now. Yuri took out his phone and unlocked it. Their Instagram chat was still open and Yuuri had responded nearly an hour earlier.

 **katsuki-yuuri** : **:** I'm about thirty minutes away.

 **kasuki-yuuri:** I'll be right there!


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

Yuri didn't sleep that night.

He wasn't sure why. He had pulled plenty of all-nighters before, but that was because he had chosen to, not because he couldn't sleep at all. Even when he was restless at night, he managed to at least sleep for a few hours,

But not tonight. Every position he lay in seemed to be uncomfortable. He kept on thinking about how he was trying to sleep and about how he was just staring at the back of his eyelids. He would toss and turn and occasionally get on his phone, then turn it off again to try to sleep and end up wide-eyed, staring at the ceiling, not tired at all.

Finally, when he saw rays of sunlight filtering through the blinds on his window, he sat up and turned on the lamp. He walked slowly to the bathroom, yawning. When he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, he almost cringed at his own reflection. He looked awful. There were huge bags under his red eyes, and his hair was a rat's nest.

He took a quick, steaming shower and flopped back onto his bed to check Instagram. The first thing he saw when he unlocked his phone was an Instagram notification:

 **katsuki-yuuri:** How are your feet today? (ó﹏ò｡)

Yuri spent a long time staring at the message. Instead of responding, he decided to just post a public photo of his unwrapped feet hanging over the hotel's balcony ten stories above the ground. It was close enough to responding without actually having to engage in a private conversation. It made him look edgy, too, as a bonus. His feet didn't look quite as bad as they had the night before, but then again he had a pretty high threshold for messed up feet.

The first comment came seconds after he posted it:

 **katsuki-yuuri:** Σ('◉⌓◉')

Yuri didn't bother to reply to that one.

Yuri changed for practice at about 07:00, and was drifting off when he heard a loud knock on the door.

It was Yakov, there to pick him up Yuri for practice much earlier than he would have liked. Yakov scolded him the entire ride to the rink for letting his feet get in such a deplorable condition. Maybe posting that picture hadn't been such a good idea, Yuri thought as he looked ahead, eyes glazed over.

His punishment was to be no skating that day; only "strength training drills" and sitting around until it was time to leave for the day. Yuri had no quarrel with that; he was still extremely sore and exhausted.

"Where did you go last night anyway?" Yuri asked once they were pulling up to the rink.

"I went to the hotel. You were practicing too late, and Jim offered to keep an eye on you while I was gone," Yakov answered gruffly. "He's a generous man."

Yuri merely rolled his eyes in reply.

"He said he was so impressed with your work last night that he's pledged several thousand more and new equipment. I trust you can be nicer to him now?" Yakov said, turning off the car. "He's paid you more than double any of your other sponsors."

"Did you ever stop to ask if I even wanted his stupid money?" Yuri complained, but even he could hear how petulant he sounded.

"I don't care whether or not you want it, you need it," Yakov got out of the car and Yuri followed suit. "You will be nice to this man or you will be very sorry."

"I really don't like him," Yuri said hesitantly. "Does he have to hang around so much?"

Yakov growled as they made their way up to the building. "You don't _like_ anyone, Yura. Stop complaining."

Yuri looked down at the sidewalk.

There were a few other skaters practicing on the ice when they walked inside, and of course, the first person Yuri saw sitting in the stands was Jim Cassidy.

"Go sit with him, be nice," Yakov gave him a push on the shoulder that made it clear he didn't get a choice in this matter.

Yuri put it off as long as he reasonably could, chatting with other skaters and checking his phone, but the longer he stayed away the direr the look Yakov was shooting him became. It was only putting off the inevitable. He walked as slowly as he could to the row of seats, digging his fists into his pockets, hiding as much of his face as he could under his hoodie.

Cassidy didn't say anything when Yuri sat a row behind him, two seats away, but he didn't seem to have any problem getting up, stepping over the row, and swinging himself into the seat next to Yuri. Yuri had gotten out his phone, and he kept his eyes glued to the screen, pretending Cassidy wasn't there. He was debating whether or not he should text Yuuri again and ask him to come pick him up again. The humiliation would be brutal and Yakov would be furious, but that seemed a hell of a lot better than sticking around for whatever plans this creep had for him.

"Who was your friend last night, Yuri?" the man asked nonchalantly.

"He's a skater, too," Yuri answered shortly.

"Have you had lunch yet? We could go get something, I'm sure Yakov wouldn't mind."

"Not hungry," Yuri muttered. Did this man have any shame?

"Did Yakov tell you about our arrangement?"

Yuri froze, and he tried not to picture the worst. Surely Yakov wouldn't sell him out… that way, just for some sponsor. He never would. Suddenly, he could feel a hand lowering his hoodie and fingers brushing through his tangled hair again.

Oh God. Not again. Yuri's hand was shaking, with fear or anger he couldn't tell. His phone clattered on the ground.

"I'm sure we could find somewhere private to talk about it more," the man whispered, much too close to Yuri's face.

Yuri was on his feet before he knew what he was doing.

"Go die…in a ditch, old man," Yuri hissed, breathing heavily. "I'd rather die than touch you." Yuri bent down and picked up his phone, then walked away as quickly as he could. No one else had turned or even looked his way in that entire interaction, so at least no one had heard that but the two of them. Yuri was beginning to get so desperate; he almost wished someone had seen that. Maybe that would have abated Cassidy, at least for a while.

Yuri walked quickly to the locker rooms, but they were locked, so he went looking for the next best room he could defend himself in, somewhere he could be alone and text Yuuri to come pick him up again. He was beyond caring how that would make him look anymore.

He was near the front lobby when he turned a corner and almost ran right into Cassidy. He was red-faced and glowering at him.

 _Shit_.

Yuri desperately tried to throw himself out of the way, but Cassidy grabbed his arm with an iron grip and pulled him closer. Yuri struggled and yelled, but the man pressed a hand over his mouth and slammed Yuri's head against a wall. Yuri groaned in pain and stopped struggling. He was dragged down the hall, then manhandled through a joining hallway and into a service door.

Cassidy shoved Yuri into a row of shelves filled with cleaning supplies and his already throbbing head cracked against the shelf. Yuri tried to sit up, dizzy, and he heard the click of the closet door being locked. He staggered to his feet and drew a breath to shout again, but a hand clapped over his mouth again before he had the chance.

Yuri's heartbeat was racing as he took in the cramped space, the hot, humid air. He had thought this guy was just some closet perv, but this was so much worse than he had thought. Right now he was filled with some desperate, primal fear, like a gazelle about to be eaten alive by a lion. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, and he wanted to _move_ , but there was no room to kick or struggle.

Yuri sank his teeth into the man's hand, and he heard a satisfying shout that was unfortunately followed up by a vicious grip in his hair, forcing him to let go. He yanked up, and Yuri cursed loudly in pain.

Yuri threw a sloppy punch at Cassidy, and the man acted surprisingly fast, catching his fist before it could reach his face.

Yuri froze.

"You're gonna regret that," Cassidy hissed. He backhanded Yuri, and the sheer force sent him backward, slamming into the shelves again. Yuri's head spun. Everything was blurry.

Several brooms toppled over, and Cassidy angrily threw them to the side. Yuri groaned as he felt Cassidy's foot slam into his chest. Again. And again. And again. Yuri slid to the floor, coughing hoarsely. He gasped in breath painfully. His stomach cramped as he heard heavy breathing inches above his head. A leg brushed his, and he felt a lumbering presence right above him. He moaned softly as he felt his heavy, thick body climb onto his and straddle him, enveloping his thin limbs. Yuri gasped under his weight, chest rising up and down quickly. _God_ , his chest was hurting. He could barely breathe in this small space. He felt like he was suffocating.

A bare, meaty hand that was almost the size of Yuri's head stroked the side of his face. Yuri shivered as Cassidy shifted his body until he slid into Yuri's narrow hips. "You know," The man started speaking softly. "I was hoping for your sake it wouldn't have to be this way, but you brought this on yourself." His sweaty hand traveled down the boy's face, his neck, stroked his collarbone, and worked its way down to his aching chest. "This could have been a lot easier for you, if you had just been more reasonable."

 _Bullshit_. Yuri felt even more bile rise in his throat; his stomach had never churned like this before.

The man's hand traveled down Yuri's chest until it stroked his prominent hip bones, then groped for the waistband of his jeans. Yuri's mind went into overdrive. His head felt like it was being bashed repeatedly with a hammer.

Cassidy put his other clammy hand in Yuri's hair and wrenched his damp locks back, his fingernails digging into his scalp. Yuri's neck arched with the pull, his head pounding in pain.

The man breathed warmly into Yuri's ear, who moaned inaudibly, tears rolling down his cheeks. Disgust filled him. He _hated_ crying, and he hated it even more in front of other people. His pride was being trampled. He had never been brought this low before.

Suddenly, his wandering, frantic thoughts were gone. He felt the hand slowly pulling down the waistband of his pants.

 _No, no, no, no, no, NO_! Coherent thought was lost. He couldn't move a muscle. Yuri wanted to scream his lungs out. This couldn't be happening. This was worse than anything that had ever happened to him. A thousand times worse. Why the hell was this happening to him? This kind of thing didn't happen to him. This didn't feel like his life anymore.

" _No…please…_ " Yuri whispered.

"Hm?" Cassidy murmured softly, leaning into Yuri's face.

" _Don't_ ," Yuri sucked in a breath. He _hated_ this. He hated…begging. It went against every fiber of his being. He had never done it in his life. " _Not…not this. Please not…this…_ "

Despite his pleading, the man only looked down at Yuri and continued to slide his jeans down his legs. Yuri heard Cassidy unzipping his fly. He felt him sliding Yuri's black hoodie over his head, until he was only in his thin black shirt, plastered to his body with sweat. Yuri's limp legs were spread wide. He felt warm breath and then lips on his neck.

Yuri blinked rapidly, tears spilling out of his eyes and pooling on the floor. He couldn't comprehend this situation anymore. His head lolled to the ground, all the fight fleeing him. He welcomed sinking into the darkness, the thought of what was about to happen to him too much. The slipping away was a relief. The pain and the agonizing sensations he felt faded away…

The door behind them suddenly rattled, and Cassidy froze, lips on Yuri's neck. The proceeding seconds stretched on.

" _Help! Help m_ —" Yuri tried shouting hoarsely, but he was cut off with a hand squeezing his throat. The man jumped off of him and hauled him up by his neck. Yuri choked He tried to fight back, but he was too weak. His eyes fluttered shut. He couldn't breathe anymore.

In Yuri's barely conscious state, the next thirty or so seconds were a little indistinct. He felt his limp body being dropped on the cold floor. He heard angry shouting, saw light flooding the room. When he was able to focus again, he noticed he was alone, splayed out on the floor on his back. His head was going to explode. Yuri leaned his head back and he coughed loudly, tears running down his cheeks.

The next thing he knew was that Yuuri was kneeling in front of him just inside the closet door. He had his hands over his mouth. Yuri could barely see him. The sense of panic he had felt earlier had not gone away. Now that Cassidy was evidently gone and the assault over, Yuri only seemed to panic even more. He was filled with an impending sense of doom, like something even worse was about to happen. His breathing had turned into short gasps. He couldn't seem to bring enough air into his lungs.

When Yuri didn't move, Victor leaned around the doorframe, eyes wide, looking at his small, trembling form.

"Yura? Yura?" Yuuri had repeated his name for a few seconds, but Yuri didn't respond or even look at him. Yuuri turned around to Victor. "He's having a panic attack," he told him, tears starting to well in his eyes.

"Oh my God," Victor said, his voice filled with shock. The thought of Yuri having a panic attack was unthinkable to him. Yuri never outwardly showed when he was even the slightest bit scared or nervous. Whatever fear he ever felt was always covered by an impenetrable layer of confidence and swagger.

Victor's gaze was suddenly furious. "That son of a bitch ran off," He said vehemently. "Can you take care of him?" Yuuri nodded, and Victor turned around and disappeared from view outside the door. "I'm going after him," Victor called to them. "He's not getting far." Yuuri heard sprinting footsteps, and Victor was gone.

Yuri's small cries had turned into dry sobbing. His chest was on fire from being kicked so many times, and each heave brought more pain. Yuuri quickly considered what he should do. Yuri needed medical attention, but his panic attack needed to be addressed first, of course. He had had a fair amount of panic attacks at competitions, and he definitely knew how to handle them. They were easier to handle with other people than when he himself was the one having them. The first step was to get Yuri away from here.

Yuuri bent down to be at eye-level with Yuri, and he asked him quietly, "Yura? Can I touch you? I need to get you somewhere safe," Yuri glanced at him and nodded slowly, shaking like a leaf.

It was a sad indicator of his current state that Yuri didn't protest in the least as Yuuri helped him stand up. He winced in pain, but other than that he was completely unresponsive, staring ahead without looking at Yuuri. Yuuri could only imagine how much this would damage Yuri after all of this was over. This mental breakdown would no doubt be as embarrassing to him as the actual assault had been.

Yuuri half carried and half let Yuri lean into him as they made their way down the hallway. He whispered comforting things as they reached the front doors of the building and stepped outside. Thankfully, they didn't see anyone on the way there. Yuuri led Yuri to a small bench located near the back of the building, surrounded by a few trees and pretty flower beds. There was still no one else around.

Yuuri guided Yuri to lay down on his back on the bench, look up at the sky, and to try to breathe slowly, in with a count of five and out with a count of seven.

Yuri did as he was told, his breath shaking all the while. "Just breathe, and focus on that," Yuuri told him quietly. "Your breath, and your breath only. Nothing else in the world matters. Now, in five, out seven, yeah, you're doing great. Everything is going to be okay. No one is going to hurt you anymore. Alright, let's do it again, in five, out seven. You're getting through this so well. You're so strong."

They carried on like this for a long time, until Yuri's breath was evener. He was still shaking and in pain and he looked nervous and jittery, but his wasn't crying anymore and the sense of doom wasn't as bad anymore. He closed his eyes.

Yuuri tried to remember what he should do next. Right. Distract. Make them focus on their environment, not on how scared they are.

Yuuri looked around, trying to find the best thing to keep Yuri distracted.

Suddenly, Yuuri's eyes lit up as he saw the perfect thing. A chubby black cat was basking in the sunlight near the building.

"Hey, Yura, look!" Yuuri pointed to the cat. Yuri partially opened his eyes and looked over at the cat. His eyes widened as he looked at it.

"Do you want me to try to pick him up?" Yuuri asked. Yuri nodded, and he walked over to the cat. Yuuri crouched next to the cat and tried to pick him up, but the cat backed away.

"That's…that's not the way you pick up a cat, idiot," Yuri called over roughly. He coughed hoarsely before he continued, "You have to let him sniff your hand first."

Yuuri looked at him and smiled. It was good to see him at least partially being his normal unpleasant self. He kneeled and slowly held out his hand. The cat sniffed it cautiously, then rubbed his head against Yuuri's hand. Yuuri smiled and scratched his head. The cat purred, and Yuuri slowly picked up the cat. He didn't protest, just continued to purr happily.

"Do you want to hold him?" Yuuri asked.

Yuri slowly sat up. He slid over to the edge of the bench. He still looked jittery, but his breathing was even now. His eyes were puffy and red. Yuuri walked over to him and gently put the cat in Yuri's arms. Yuri carefully wrapped his arms around the cat and held him to his chest, who purred contentedly.

Yuri shivered as a gust of wind blew past them. Yuuri looked at him and realized he was only wearing a thin shirt. What had happened to his jacket?

"You look cold, Yura," Yuuri took off his coat and put it over Yuri's shoulders. He gave him a look of disgust as Yuuri situated the jacket more comfortably around his shoulders.

"There…warmer now?"

"I guess," Yuri said grudgingly. "Thanks." His voice sounded scratchy and much quieter than usual.

Yuuri looked at his friend. He was petting the cat, giving it all of his attention.

"So…why do you like cats so much?" It felt a little odd to be talking about something so silly after what had just happened, but Yuuri felt that he should try to keep Yuri's mind off of what had just happened.

"I just like cats. Is that enough for you?" Yuri grumbled. He looked over at Yuuri and sighed. He looked at the ground. "My mom got me a kitten when I was a kid. Her name was Zvezda. She ran away when I… I… I don't even know why I'm telling you this. Why do you want to know?"

"Because I'm your friend," Yuuri said softly. "I like to know things about my friends."

Yuri looked at him again with an expression Yuuri had never seen on his face before. It was hard to describe. Vulnerable? Regretful? Unsure?

Yuri turned away from him again. "He…he did that when you walked into the suite a few days ago. And he probably would have tried at the rink yesterday, too, if you hadn't come."

Yuuri looked at him, but didn't say anything.

"You saved me from him three times. And you helped me through…whatever just happened to me. I…thank you."

Yuuri looked at the back of his head, tears welling in his eyes. "Yura, how…how far did he get?"

Yuri's cheeks flushed pink. He pulled the jacket tighter around him as he replied, "He didn't…I'm still…ugh." His lip curled and he shuddered. "I am _not_ talking about this."

"Okay. That's fine. You don't need to."

Suddenly, Yuuri's phone rang in his jacket pocket. After a moment, Yuri shoved his hand into the pocket, pulled out the phone, and handed it to Yuuri. He grabbed it and handed it to him.

Yuuri flashed him a smile and took it. He looked at the caller ID and quickly accepted the call. "Victor, did you find him?"

Yuri's head snapped over to look at him.

"Yeah…yeah…wait what? He kicked you into a what? You're joking. Are you okay? Wow. Okay, good. Yeah…yeah…well, what are you going to do now? You're going to…wow. Can you do that? Okay…okay…yeah. That makes sense. Um…yeah, he's…he's better. I don't know if he'll need medical attention yet. We'll talk. Okay. Bye. I love you too. Call me when you get there," Yuuri hung up.

Yuri stared at him expectedly.

"Victor chased him out of the building and down the street and he caught up to him. They got into a fight, but he ended up kicking Victor into a brick wall and got away. Victor's okay," Yuuri added when he saw Yuri's expression. "He's planning on going to the police station to report all-"

"No," Yuri snapped.

"Yuri… do you want this guy to get away without any consequences? He deserves to go to prison for this."

"I don't care. I'm not talking to the police."

"But Yuri, what if he's done this before? What if this creep does this to some other kid? What if he—"

"No," Yuri spat. "I don't want to. I don't want to talk to anyone else about this. And I don't want Victor to either," Yuri swallowed.

Yuuri looked at him, feeling overwhelmed. They had to find this guy. He had to get retribution for this. He couldn't just walk away from this without any punishment. Yuuri wouldn't be able to sleep tonight just knowing that that man was still out there.

But Yuri looked intent, more serious than Yuuri had ever seen him. He really didn't want this.

Then again, should they even factor Yuri's opinion in this? The unspeakable had just happened to him, and he was humiliated. He was too prideful to talk to a friend about what had just happened, let alone describe the events to the police. He was fifteen. A minor. Shouldn't Yuuri just insist this man had to be taken into custody, make this decision for him?

"But Yuri, we…we have to," Yuuri said desperately.

"No. You and Victor do. I don't want this. I don't want to talk about this anymore. I just want all of this to…" Yuri sighed and turned away. "Just…please."

 _Please_?

Yuuri had never heard him say that word. Ever. He grit his teeth and unlocked his phone. He opened Victor's contact and called him, looking at Yuri as he listened to the callback.

"Hey. Yeah, we're okay. Look…don't go the police station. Yeah. I know, Victor, I know, just please don't, okay? I know. Me too. Yeah. I…I don't know. We'll talk later. I…yeah…okay. Yeah. Sounds good. I'll see you tonight."

Yuuri hung up and he turned to Yuri. "Are you feeling okay? How hurt are you?"

"I'm fine," Yuri grumbled.

"No, you're not, Yuri. What's hurting?"

Yuri ground his teeth. "My…my chest. Or my ribs, I guess. I don't know. It hurts to breathe. He kicked me. And my head. I hit it a lot."

"We need to go to a hospital, Yura."

"No."

"This isn't up for debate. We're not going the police, but you're not getting out of this. You could have some serious injuries. I'm not taking any risks."

Yuri was silent for a moment. He couldn't really argue with that. "Since when did you call me Yura?" He asked curiously.

Yuuri blinked. "To be totally completely honest, I don't know. I've heard Victor and Yakov and Otabek call you by your diminutive and I…it just felt like it was right when I saw you. In there."

They sat in slightly uncomfortable silence for a moment or two, then Yuuri got to his feet quickly and said, "Come on. Let's go get your jacket and put some ice on that chest. Then we can go to the hospital."

"Yeah. Speaking of which, you can have your jacket back, Katsudon. It smells like beef and cheese. Pig," Yuri gently set the cat on the ground, then took off the jacket and threw it at Yuuri. He stood up quickly and grit his teeth. Yuuri was at his side immediately, holding the jacket to his chest. Yuri bit back a seething comment, and he allowed Yuuri to help him limp back to the building.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I obviously don't know much about hospitals and injured ribs, so whatever knowledge I have I got from the Internet. Sorry that this is all horribly inaccurate xD Feel free to yell at me in the comments.

Enjoy

x

* * *

 _Chapter 5_

Yuuri wasn't quite sure how hospitals worked or where to go, so while Yuri was in the restroom, he Googled the nearest hospital and was relieved when he saw that it was only a few minutes away.

When they arrived, Yuuri helped Yuri limp to a chair, then he walked uncertainly to the front desk.

"Um, hello?" Yuuri said in hesitant English to the receptionist.

She looked up and smiled. "Good morning. How can I help you?"

"My friend needs to see someone. He has some injuries that I think could be pretty severe. Maybe fractured ribs and a head injury."

"Alright. I can set up an appointment with a doctor right now for you right now. Does that sound okay?"

"Yes, please."

"Let's see." The woman scrolled through her computer and squinted at it. "Okay…you're in luck! Doctor Ivanova is free in about ten minutes. She can manage a quick check-up for your friend. Does that sound okay?"

"That sounds perfect," Yuuri said, feeling relief. He had been worried this would be more complicated.

"Are you family?"

"Uh, no. I'm just a friend."

"Can I have your names?"

"I'm Katsuki Yuuri, spelled with two u's, and my friend is Yuri Plisetsky, spelled with one u."

"Okay, Yuuri," she said. "Will you be with Yuri during the appointment?"

"Yes," Yuuri said firmly.

"Okay. And you'll be paying for this appointment?"

"Yes."

"Alright, I've got your appointment booked. When Doctor Ivanova is ready I'll call you over."

"Thank you so much," Yuuri said gratefully. He gave her a smile before walking back to Yuri.

He was leaning back into the chair, the hood of his jacket pulled around his face. An ice pack was resting on his chest. He looked like he was almost asleep when Yuuri came back, but his eyes snapped open when he heard Yuuri sit down next to him.

"Hey. Sorry to wake you," Yuuri said with a smile.

"I wasn't asleep," Yuri snapped, sitting up.

Yuuri looked at him affectionately, then said, "I got you an appointment with a doctor in about ten minutes. She's just going to give you a quick check-up and maybe give you some pain medication."

Yuri shoved his hands in his pockets and slumped back again. "Whatever. Sounds good."

Yuuri sat back too. He wasn't quite sure what to say to Yuri. He had just seen him at what was probably the lowest point of his life, sobbing and scared and vulnerable. He wondered how different their relationship would be now, if it all.

Yuri subtly moved as far away from Yuuri as he could until he was at the edge of his seat. He was trying his best to keep his mind completely blank. He didn't want to think about anything that had just happened. He didn't want to acknowledge the amount of pain he was in. He didn't want to think about how Yuuri kept shooting him concerned glances.

Around fifteen minutes later, the receptionist called over to Yuuri. He stood and motioned for Yuri to follow him. They walked slowly over to the desk.

"Hi again. Dr. Ivanova should be ready for you," she said with a smile. "This is Yuri?" She asked Yuuri.

Yuuri nodded.

"Great. Head over to room 47-B. It's on this floor. Just head down this hallway," she motioned to the right, "and take a left. It's the seventh room on your right."

"Thanks. Should we head back over here when we're finished?"

"You can if you want to pay here afterward. You have the option of paying online later."

"Okay… I'll pay here after the appointment."

"Alright. See you then," she said with a smile.

"Sounds great. Thank you," Yuuri said. "Come on, Yura." They started walking, and Yuuri made sure to go slowly.

As they walked down the hallway, Yuri suddenly buckled and he hissed in pain, clutching his chest. The ice pack fell to the floor when he leaned against the wall, his hand curling into a fist.

"Yura—" Yuuri tried to help him, but Yuri growled and Yuuri withdrew his hand.

"Is the ibuprofen I gave you helping?"

"No. It still hurts just as badly. I don't…understand…why this hurts so badly," Yuri said hoarsely. "He only kicked me a few times."

"That's all it takes if it was in the right place," Yuuri said softly. "Do you want to go sit down again?"

"I'm…I'm fine. Let's go," Yuri picked up the ice pack and pushed himself off of the wall. He staggered forward, Yuuri holding one of his arms to help keep him stable.

"Are you actually paying for my hospital bill?" Yuri asked him through clenched teeth.

"Yeah."

"You don't have to. I'm not your charity case."

"I know. Just let me do this for you, Yuri."

Yuri was silent, and Yuuri took it as a sign he agreed.

They made it down the hallway and Yuuri was thankfully able to find room 47-B quickly. He opened the door for Yuri and he walked in slowly. Yuuri followed him, and they sat in two chairs next to a large counter. The room was small and empty and most of it was taken up by large cabinets. The garish fluorescent lighting was already giving Yuuri a headache.

"Isn't she supposed to be here already?" Yuri said grumpily.

"Just wait. I'm sure she'll be—"

Yuuri was interrupted as someone opened the door. A large woman with chocolate-colored skin in a lab coat holding a clipboard walked into the room. She smiled at them when she saw them.

"Good morning," she said. "My name is Dr. Ivanova. I'm here to examine Yuri Plisetsky for possible head and rib injuries?"

Yuuri nodded. "My name is Katsuki Yuuri. I'm a friend. I'm going to be staying with him."

"Alright. Nice to meet you," she held out her hand and shook both Yuris' hands. She set the clipboard on the side of the counter and spoke to Yuri. "Hi, Yuri. How are you feeling?"

"I'm…" He looked at Yuuri, who nodded at him. "Awful."

"What's hurting exactly?"

"It hurts to breathe."

"Okay. That's a common symptom of fractured ribs. How did you get these injuries?"

Yuri stared at her stonily.

"An assault," Yuuri told her. "Someone attacked him."

"Alright." The tone of Yuuri's voice made her pause. "Should I get out a rape ki—"

"No," Yuri said quickly, his cheeks flushing. "No."

She turned to Yuuri, who shook his head.

She nodded and continued. "Okay. What injuries were inflicted exactly?"

"I hit my head. A lot. And I was kicked a few times."

"Okay. And how old are you?"

Yuri sighed. "I'm fifteen."

"Great. Okay, I'm going to check to see if some of your ribs are fractured. I'll probably be able to tell what's going on, but there's a small chance we'll need to do an x-ray. Can you please sit on the counter and take off your shirt? I'm just going to quickly examine you. This shouldn't take longer than a few minutes."

Yuri looked at her with an expression that could melt an iceberg.

She walked over to the cabinets. Yuuri nudged Yuri, and he grudgingly walked over to the counter, swinging himself onto it. He handed Yuuri his ice pack and he pulled his hoodie over his head.

Dr. Ivanova put on a pair of disposable gloves, keeping her back turned away from Yuri.

Yuri slowly pulled his shirt over his head and handed it to Yuuri. Yuuri tried not to gasp when he saw Yuri's thin chest. Dark purple and brown bruises littered his skin, and they looked even worse contrasted against his pale skin.

He put his hands in his lap, looking away when Dr. Ivanova turned around.

"I'm sorry if you're uncomfortable, Yuri. This will only take a few minutes." She walked over to him and started gently pushing on the skin on top of his ribs, asking him where it hurt.

Yuri hated this. He _hated_ it. This was almost worse than having a stupid panic attack in front of Yuuri and needing his help like some helpless kid. The pain wasn't too bad until she pressed down in one particular place on his right side. He hissed in pain and balled up his fists.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said empathetically. "Are you okay?"

"I'm…wonderful," he growled. "Are you almost done?"

"Yes. Just hang on." She finished pressing for about a half a minute, then stepped back. "Okay, now we're done."

Dr. Ivanova checked Yuri for other injuries, on his head and his spine. She watched him breathe for a minute. When the examination was finished, she took off her gloves and said, "Well, you're very lucky, Yuri."

"Am I?" Yuri muttered venomously.

"Yes, you are," she said without fazing. "There was some bruising on your head, but there isn't any internal damage. Only one of your ribs is severely fractured, which means that there's a crack or break in one of the bones of your rib cage. Breathing is painful right now because the muscles used for breathing pull on the rib. Broken ribs heal by themselves, so as long as you avoid strenuous physical activity for the next few weeks and take pain medication every day, you should be fine. Even if it hurts, you're going to need to take the deepest breath you can every hour for the next week to reduce your chances of getting pneumonia or a partial collapse of the lu—"

"Hang on," Yuri interrupted. "Did you just say I can't do any strenuous physical activity for the next few weeks?"

She nodded. "Yes."

Yuuri cringed inwardly. This was not going to be pretty.

"Are you kidding? How long does a fractured rib take to heal usually?"

"They usually heal completely in about five to six weeks."

"So I can't skate?" Yuri said, his voice starting to rise.

"Skate?" She looked confused. "What kind of skating?"

" _Ice_ skating!" Yuri yelled.

"Oh, absolutely no ice skating for the next weeks. That's a very strenuous sport. You shouldn't do anything that hard on your body for at least four…no, make that three weeks. You're young and very healthy; you'll heal quickly. But even then, you would need to be very gentle and don't do anything too hard for all six weeks."

Yuri's eye twitched. "I'm not doing that."

"Yura, you have to," Yuuri said. "If you don't, your injury will probably get even worse and you'll have to wait longer."

"He's right," Dr. Ivanova agreed.

"No! I can't do that! I have a competition the week after next!" Yuri pointed his finger up at her, shaking in anger. "I'm not listening to you. I _have_ to skate."

"Yakov is going to tell you the same thing, Yura. He's not going to want you to hurt yourself."

"I. Don't. Care," Yuri stood up and walked over to Yuuri. He grabbed his shirt from his lap and pulled it over his head.

"I'm skating, whether _you're_ okay with it or not," He said to Dr. Ivanova.

She still looked confused. "Are you a competitive ice skater?"

Yuri rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and I've won the junior division of the Grand Prix twice and I just won in the senior division, too. I can't just _not skate_ ," Yuri yelled at her.

She raised her brows. "I thought you looked familiar. Congratulations on winning the Grand Prix, Yuri."

Yuri rolled his eyes.

"You'll still need to avoid skating for the next three weeks."

Yuri pulled on his hoodie quickly. "Yeah? We'll see about that. Come on, Yuuri. Let's get out of here."

"Hang on. I need to prescribe pain medication. You're going to need something stronger than the average over-the-counter painkillers. Can you fill out a form for me?"

Yuri's lip curled. "Why?"

"I need to know certain information in order to prescribe you the right medication."

Yuri looked at Yuuri. "Do I have to?"

Yuuri nodded.

Dr. Ivanova walked over to the cabinet and opened one of the cabinets. She grabbed a form out of one of the cabinets and handed it to Yuri.

He bent over the counter and filled it out in less than a minute, handing it to her quickly.

"You'll need to wait about twenty minutes for the medication, and when it's finished I'll come out and give it to you. It should last for about two weeks. Come back when you need more and we'll refill your prescription." Dr. Ivanova walked over the door, and she opened it for both Yuris.

Yuri walked slowly out without even looking at her, still fuming. He stormed out as quickly as he could. Yuuri thanked her sincerely and shook her hand.

"He's not going to skate," Yuuri told her. "His coach won't let him."

She smiled. "He's an extraordinary kid. I've heard a lot about him. He's a celebrity here. Is he going to be okay?"

"I think so. He…he went through a lot today, but he's strong. I'm really proud of him."

"I'm so glad," she said sincerely. "Well, I'm going to go work on that pain medication for you. I'll see you in a little bit." She smiled again and walked away. Yuuri turned around and caught up with Yuri.

"There you are. What were you and that old hag talking about?"

"Nothing," Yuuri said.

Yuri scoffed. "I don't believe you." He huffed angrily. "I can't believe _this_. Not skating for three weeks? That's absolutely ridiculous! I have so many things I need to work on! Yakov is going to lose it! And you!" Yuri looked at Yuuri stonily. "You were totally on her side! What if you cracked _your_ rib? Would you be okay with not skating for three weeks? Of course not! You two are trying to ruin my skating career! Maybe you're trying to sabotage me, keep me from skating so you can get your podium spot next year!"

Yuuri shrugged, smiling. There is something comforting about being the target of Yuri's shouting.

"What are you smiling about, Katsudon?" Yuri roared as they turned a corner.

"Nothing," Yuuri replied elusively, but he felt something he hadn't since he saw Yuri in a motionless pile on the closet: hope that he might actually be okay.


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6_

After Yuri shouted at Yuuri about yet again how he could pay for his own hospital visit, he eventually gave in and allowed Yuuri to pay for the bill.

They sat down on the bench to wait again, and Yuri was relieved. All that shouting had been really painful.

About ten minutes later, Dr. Ivanova walked out with the pain medication. Yuuri thanked her again and Yuri grudgingly followed suite before they walked out of the building. Yuuri bought some bottled water from a vending machine on the way out.

Yuuri was able to quickly hail a cab, and on the drive over, he forced Yuri to take his medication with the water. He listened to Yuri's complaining for a few minutes until Victor texted. He was staying at the skating rink for a while to talk to Yakov and sort out a few things with security. Yuri didn't want to consider exactly what he meant by "sort out a few things with security."

The drive was only about thirty minutes long. Victor's apartment was small but spacious, and smelled like dog even though Makkachin was staying in Hasetsu. It was sparsely furnished and very neat.

The sympathetic looks Yuuri kept shooting Yuri in the drive over were starting to make him want to punch him in his stupid face. Hours of being taken care of by Yuuri and be around his sickening " _I'm a good guy, I care about everyone so much, I have a million emotions and I cry every day_ " routine was proving to be too much. He needed space.

Yuri walked straight to the living room and collapsed on the couch. It was incredibly comfortable, but his chest and head were still throbbing. The ice pack didn't seem to have any effect aside from numbing his fingers completely and soaking his hoodie through. And when was that damned pain medication going to kick in?

Yuri heard footsteps behind him. "Hey, do you need anything?" Yuuri asked.

Ugh. There was that _concern_."No. Just leave me alone," Yuri groaned.

"Okay. I'm going to start on dinner soon. Just call me if you need anything, okay?"

"Whatever," Yuri called back. He heard retreating footsteps, and he let out a sigh of relief when he realized he was alone.

Yuri nestled further into the couch. He got his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it. He absentmindedly opened Instagram and stared at the screen. He didn't feel like looking at Instagram. Why was he bothering?

He scrolled through his own feed with a detached indifference and sat up when he saw a picture he had posted a few weeks ago. In it, he and Otabek were grinning up at the camera. Otabek had longer arms, so he had taken the picture. Yuri tapped on the picture and swiped to see the others. In the next one, Otabek had his arm around Yuri's shoulders. In the last one, Otabek was looking at the camera confusedly while Yuri yelled furiously at him.

Yuri smiled. He couldn't remember why he had been so angry, but that picture seemed to encapsulate their relationship well.

Otabek.

Yuri needed Otabek.

He tapped on Otabek's profile in the tagged picture and tapped on message. He stared at the screen for a moment before simply sending:

 **yuri-plisetsky** : hey

It looked stupid, but Yuri didn't really care. He set the phone next to him and looked up at the ceiling while he waited for him to reply.

Only a minute later, his phone dinged and Yuri picked it up immediately.

 **otabekaltin** : Hey

 **otabekaltin** : How are you?

Yuri sighed. He wasn't even sure why he was texting Otabek. They texted every few days, and it was always when one of them had something particular to tell each other. He had never been a part of this drifting, aimless sort of texting. It wasn't like he was going to be honest with Otabek and tell him everything that had happened that day. What was the point of even texting him?

If he was being completely honest with himself, he just wanted to be with Otabek. His mere presence calmed Yuri in ways he couldn't explain rationally.

He decided to be half-honest.

 **yuri-plisetsky** : i'm okay i just got back from the hospital

 **otabekaltin** : The hospital?

 **otabekaltin** : What happened?

Yuri stared at the screen, his thumbs hovering over the keys.

 _One of my sponsors tried to rape me a few weeks ago, and then today he shoved me into a closet, kicked the shit out of me, and tried to rape me again. And then I had a panic attack and fucking Katsudon people had to help me._

Yeah, right.

 **yuri-plisetsky** : i just got into a stupid accident in the rink i'm okay

 **yuri-plisetsky** : i cracked a rib and my head is bruised or something idk

 **otabekaltin** : Do you have to go back to the hospital?

 **yuri-plisetsky** : god i wish i didnt

 **yuri-plisetsky** : my doctor was the worst

 **yuri-plisetsky** : i have to refill my pain medication in a few weeks but not until then

 **otabekaltin** : Good.

 **otabekaltin** : Is someone staying with you and helping you?

 **yuri-plisetsky** : yeah katsuki drove me to the hospital and he's been babying me for hours

 **yuri-plisetsky** : im at victors apartment rn

 **otabekaltin** : Okay.

 **otabekaltin** : How much pain are you in?

 **yuri-plisetsky** : im fine it doesn't hurt at all

 **otabekaltin** : Be honest.

Yuri smirked. He could see through his bullshit, even when they were just texting

 **yuri-plisetsky** : it hurt like a bitch when it happened

 **yuri-plisetsky** : it still hurts like a bitch but not as much

 **otabekaltin** : That's what I thought. Did the accident happen at practice?

 **yuri-plisetsky** : yeah

 **otabekaltin** : How long until you can skate again?

 **yuri-plisetsky** : the doctor told me i'll be better if i rest for 3 fuCKING WEEKS

 **yuri-plisetsky** : 3 WEEKS

 **yuri-plisetsky** : im so mad what the hell am i supposed to do for 3 weeks?

 **yuri-plisetsky** : i have competitions and shit like that!

 **yuri-plisetsky** : ugghHHH i'm sO ANGRY

 **otabekaltin** : I'm so sorry, Yura

 **otabekaltin** : I wish I could be there for you

 **yuri-plisetsky** : yeah me too

 **otabekaltin** : You get a break from skating, at least. That will be really good for you.

 **yuri-plisetsky** : wtf do you mean by that?

 **otabekaltin** : I just mean you live for the ice and getting a break will allow you to relax and maybe explore some other things.

Yuri scoffed aloud.

 **yuri-plisetsky** : yeah right

 **yuri-plisetsky** : like what

 **otabekaltin** : I'm not really sure honestly.

 **otabekaltin** : I actually just found out that I'm coming to St. Petersburg next week. We can figure something out then.

 **yuri-plisetsky** : WHAR

 **yuri-plisetsky** : REALLY?

 **yuri-plisetsky** : COOL

 **yuri-plisetsky** : *T

 **otabekaltin** : Yeah I'm excited too :)

 **otabekaltin** : I'm meeting with someone who may be my future coach. Arav is probably going to retire this season, and he's scrambling to find someone to replace him as my coach.

 **otabekaltin** : The meeting shouldn't be very long, so I'll hang out with you for a few days. Maybe even a week, if Arav and my family are okay with that.

 **otabekaltin** : That sound okay?

 **yuri-plisetsky** : DUH

 **yuri-plisetsky** : I CANT WAIT

 **yuri-plisetsky** : OH MY GOD

 **otabekaltin** : I'm excited to see you too.

 **otabekaltin** : Damn. I've got to go right now.

 **yuri-plisetsky** : aw okay

 **otabekaltin** : But one more thing, Yura

 **otabekaltin** : If anything like this happens to you again, I want you to tell me immediately.

 **otabekaltin** : Don't hesitate. I want to be there for you, Yura.

Yuri looked down at the screen, his brows upturned. Something in him stirred, something deep that made him feel warm. He didn't even want to imagine the ridiculous face he was making.

 **otabekaltin** : Keep me updated, okay? I want to know what's going on with you and these injuries.

 **yuri-plisetsky** : ok

 **yuri-plisetsky** : thank you

 **otabekaltin** : I'm your friend, Yura. This is what I'm supposed to do.

 **otabekaltin** : I'll talk to you later. Text me. I'm here for you.

Yuri's gut clenched with guilt.

 **yuri-plisetsky** : i will

 **yuri-plisetsky:** ttyl

Yuri set his phone to the side again. Maybe he would tell Otabek what had happened when he came next week.

Maybe.

There was rustling behind Yuri in the kitchen and there was soft music was playing. Yuuri must be starting on dinner.

Yuri felt much more at peace now after talking to Otabek. His eyes shut and he suddenly realized how tired he was. It felt like there were weights pressing down on his eyelids. He set the ice pack in the coffee table and repositioned himself, sinking further into the couch. He was asleep in less than a minute.

* * *

Yuri woke when he heard voices above him.

"…cute when he's sleeping. He's actually drooling. He is a little kitten!"

Yuri sat bolt upright. He would recognize Victor's annoying voice anywhere. His chest throbbed, but it wasn't as bad as it had been when he had gotten to the apartment. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie as he looked around the room blearily. Yuuri and Victor were standing next to each other behind the couch, Victor still in his coat, suit, and gloves. He must have just gotten home.

Something smelled incredible. Whatever Yuuri was making would be delicious.

"Were you two watching me _sleep_?" Yuri yelled. "You freaks! I can't believe you! How long have you been standing there?"

"Not that long, Yura. I just came home with Yakov," Victor replied, still grinning.

"Yakov? Yakov is—" Yuri stopped talking as soon as he saw him walk into the room from the entryway. The man looked as grave and gruff as ever.

Yuri pushed himself to his feet quickly and put the ice pack on the table, ignoring the pain. "Yakov," he started and faltered. "I don't know—"

Yakov suddenly strode quickly across the room to Yuri and wrapped his arms around him.

Yuri went rigid.

He wasn't sure what to do. A million thoughts ran through his head, most of them along the lines of _what the hell is happening,_ and _wow my chest really hurts_ , and _is he actually hugging me_ , and _what am I supposed to do_. He eventually relaxed into the hug and they stood like this for several moments.

Yakov broke away and Yuri was shocked to see sincere regret and sadness in his eyes. "Yurochka," he said, his voice still grump and gruff. "I'm…I'm sorry. I should have listened to you. I should have—"

"No. Don't. You don't need to apologize," Yuri cut him off sharply, partially because he didn't want Yakov to blame himself for anything and partially because he found this entire situation supremely uncomfortable. Receiving an apology from him instead of a lecture was unsettling, to say the least.

"You aren't training for the next four weeks, Yura," Yakov said gruffly. "I'm not letting you."

" _Yakov_ ," Yuri said exasperatedly, "are you kidding? Do you _want_ me to lose my reputation as the best skater in the world? I just won the Grand Prix! I have to win! I have to _train_!"

Yakov fired back with an equally furious, loud answer, and they carried on like this for a minute or two.

Yuri crossed his arms and looked back over to Yuuri and Victor, who were both smiling and gushing at him. "Idiots," Yuri muttered under his breath.

"Are you two ready for dinner?" Yuuri asked.

"Yakov is staying for dinner?" Yuri asked.

Yakov nodded grimly. He didn't look very happy about it. "Victor asked me." He looked like he wanted to say "forced" instead of "asked."

"Yay! This is going to be so much fun!" Victor said, clasping his hands together.

Dinner was warm, happy, and delicious if still slightly uncomfortable to Yuri. It felt like they were all dancing around the elephant in the room. The topics of conversation stayed mostly around Victor's ridiculous escapades as a junior division skater.

The only sour moment was when Yuri laughed at something Victor had said and he coughed for a few minutes, then had to take more pain medication and take a breather in the living room.

Yakov actually smiled several times throughout the night, something Yuri rarely saw. It was truly a day of new experiences for him.

When Yakov had left with a gruff goodnight and the dishes were cleaned, Yuri suggested he stay with Victor and Yuuri for the night. They kindly didn't ask why, and Victor set up the fold out sofa for Yuri to sleep on. Yuuri brought out a pile of blankets and pillows for him, and even a set of pajamas, but Yuri refused to wear them.

All of them were exhausted, and Victor retired to bed quickly. Yuuri tried to stay awake and read in the chair by the fold-out bed for Yuri's sake, but Yuri told him it was fine.

"Are you sure?" Yururi asked him. "I can stay up with you—"

"Go to bed, Katsudon."

"But I… Fine. Goodnight, Yuri." Yuuri stood up and was about to walk away. He hesitated. "Listen, Yuri, I—"

"No," Yuri said. "I don't want any more of your worrying, got it? If you keep this up you're going to have to go back to the hospital. Goodnight."

Yuuri still looked hesitant, but he said goodnight again walked away to his room.

It was warm and cozy in the apartment, but it still felt lonely to Yuri. He tossed and turned and watched YouTube for hours, but he still couldn't quite fall asleep. He kept thinking of Cassidy's breath on his neck, his suffocating weight, his hands on Yuri's body, roaming, roaming…

He shivered and squirmed into the couch. He couldn't shake the feeling. He was sick of it. He stared up at the ceiling and looked at the clock on his phone. 02:16.

Oh, whatever. He had slept less than three hours in what had been no doubt the most emotionally demanding day of his life. He deserved some comfort, dammit, even if he felt utterly humiliated asking for it.

He climbed out of bed and tiptoed into the back of the apartment. The door to Victor's bedroom was open and he walked quietly over to peek inside.

There was a comfortable looking, gigantic bed in the middle of the room, but the two forms on the bed were close together on one side. Yuuri was lying on his side facing the door, right on the edge of the bed like someone who had squirmed to try and take up as little space as possible. Victor, on the other hand, had an arm and a leg over him, looking like a small kid trying to grapple a tree. Clearly, Victor's sense of personal space was different from Yuuri's.

Yuri pushed the door open and it squeaked loudly. Neither form in the bed moved. He stepped inside but was hit with indecision on what to do, so he sat on the floor beside the bed and watched for a few minutes. Yuri wanted to wake them up or something, but had to work up to it first.

From the floor, he was on level with Yuuri's face. Yuuri was cute when he was asleep. His face looked round and soft, and he was so much more relaxed than he was when he was awake.

"Yuuri," he finally whispered into the dark room. There was no response so he tried again, louder. "Yuuri."

Yuuri's eyelashes fluttered and he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before he blinked his eyes open.

"Yurio?" he murmured quietly, voice thick with sleep. He didn't seem very surprised to see Yuri.

"That doesn't look very comfortable," Yuri commented. He paused. "Can you come sit with me?"

It took Yuuri a few long seconds to respond, blinking himself awake before shifting to sit up, knocking Victor's arm off. He didn't appear to be woken in the slightest by the movement.

"Okay," Yuuri finally said, pushing Victor off and pulling the duvet over him before standing. He had a sponsorship shirt on and a pair of pajama pants that looked at least three sizes too big on him.

They shuffled out of the bedroom together and Yuuri dropped onto the fold out bed without protest, looking instantly boneless and sleepy. Yuri carefully slipped into the bed too, keeping as far to the side as he could while facing Yuuri. Yuuri sighed, adjusting his pillow and resting his hand on the empty space between them.

"Bad fall?" Yuri asked quietly, studying the bruised knuckles on Yuuri's hand.

"Hm?"

"Your hand."

"Yuuri opened his eyes, looking like he had trouble focusing on his own hand.

"Oh," he sighed. "You should see the other guy."

"I should—what?" Yuri suddenly understood. In those precious few seconds when he had been stunned in the closet he had apparently missed a lot. "Did you punch that guy?"

Yuuri was smiling a little sheepishly.

"Good job," Yuri said and they both ended up laughing as quietly as they could.

"I've never hit someone before, it hurt a lot." Yuuri shook his hand out before gingerly placing it on the mattress between them. "Don't tell Victor, okay? I don't think he saw that part."

"Are you kidding? Victor will fall to his knees imagining that and—" Yuri started with a grin.

"Don't finish that thought," Yuuri cut him off and buried his face in the pillow.

Yuri snorted and waited for Yuuri to resurface, looking tired and guilty.

"It'll feel better in a few days," Yuri said. "I know from experience."

Yuuri smiled. "I believe it. How are you feeling?"

"Better. It still hurts, but I think the medication is helping."

"Good. I'm so glad."

Yuri let out a long sigh. "What the hell am I supposed to do for three weeks?" Yuri asked him. He looked lost.

"That's up to you, Yura. You're really smart. I know you'll figure it out."

Yuri snorted. "Well, now that I know you think I'm _smart_ , I'm fine. Thanks, Katsudon."

Yuuri chuckled.

"Otabek is coming to visit next week, maybe for an entire week,"

"Really? That's wonderful! I can't wait to see him again. Almaty is too far away," Yuuri said, still smiling.

"You're right…"

Yuri didn't remember falling asleep, but the next time he opened his eyes it was morning. Yuuri was still sound asleep across from him. There was soft classical music playing in the background.

"He's cute when he sleeps, right?"

Yuri jumped, yanking his hand back and looking up at Victor leaning over the back of the couch with a mug of coffee. He was smiling brightly, but he only had eyes for Yuuri.

"The first time I saw him sleep I couldn't look away. He's so relaxed," Victor sighed quietly and took a sip of coffee.

"If you think he's cute," Yuri said, grinning, " You should hear about how he punched Cassidy in the—"

"Nooooo," Yuuri groaned sleepily from next to him. "That was a secret."

"Yuuri!" Victor gasped, looking deeply interested. "Did you really?"

"I told you he'd like hearing it," Yuri said, smug, and relaxed back into bed listening to the two of them.

"It was very satisfying," Yuuri said with a soft smile. The three of them laughed together.

Yuri felt more safe and warm and happy than he had felt for a long time. He didn't know what the coming weeks were going to be like, but he was glad he would have Yuuri, Victor, and Otabek with him to help get him through them.

A/N:

Thanks so much for reading! Please, please leave a comment for me. Once again, all appropriate credit is given to the original author. I need your criticism. It's the only way I'll ever get better :)

Have a great day!

x


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